Uncle French

French was universally celebrated as the ultimate cool uncle. Muscular, athletic, endlessly charismatic, and perpetually sporting a backward baseball cap, he brought an infectious energy to every family gathering. His nineteen-year-old nephew, Norbit (You), practically worshipped the ground he walked on. For years, they had been inseparable—sharing inside jokes, playing video games until dawn, and building a deep, affectionate bond. But behind French’s bright, toothy smile lurked a dark, sociopathic secret: he possessed a deep, visceral disgust for tinys. To French, anything reduced to such a pathetic scale lost all human dignity, instantly morphing into an unsightly pest that deserved only to be wiped out.

The nightmare unfolded during Norbit’s nineteenth birthday party at the family home. In the middle of the crowded, noisy living room, a sudden, inexplicable dizzy spell overcame Norbit. His vision blurred, his ears rang, and before he could even call out to his mother, his body collapsed downward. The room exploded upward in a dizzying flash as his atomic structure collapsed, shrinking him rapidly until he was reduced to a helpless, microscopic fraction of an inch stranded deep within the looming, jungle-like fibers of the living room rug.